


Lessons of War

by geekglassesgirl



Category: Original Work
Genre: Imprisonment, Prisoner of War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24405538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekglassesgirl/pseuds/geekglassesgirl
Summary: Please let them have mercy on me, I don’t want to do this. I can’t keep fighting a battle I know is wrong, and maybe that is shameful to my nation, maybe that makes me a traitor, but I believe my people are better than this.A story about right and wrong.
Kudos: 2





	Lessons of War

Please let them have mercy on me, I don’t want to do this. I can’t keep fighting a battle I know is wrong, and maybe that is shameful to my nation, maybe that makes me a traitor, but I believe my people are better than this. I know that this, in one way or another, is the right thing to do. 

But that doesn’t mean I’m not terrified. I am shaking, I could fall down crying at any moment. I can’t handle this constant fear anymore, I need to either get rid of the problem or face up to it.

They still need to raise their guns to me, I still need to compel myself to slowly set mine down, to lower to my knees and place my hands in the air. I still stare with wide eyes and shaky breath at the ground, the same ground that some of my people lay dead on. But I don’t look at their bodies, at their faces. I can’t stare into their eyes and keep tears out of mine. I just can’t do it, so I sit on the wet and muddy ground, my injured knee aching from the weight it's holding and I wait.

I wait as my gun is confiscated from my reach, as the barrels of guns approach me, and I wait as my hands are roughly grabbed from the air and forced behind my back and my face into the mud as I feel hands patt me down for any other weapons. They strip me of my rations and my first aid kit. They take away my lifeline out here, without my food and weapon it won’t matter if I run or make an escape from them. I wouldn’t live to see the next nightfall if I didn’t find some source of stability.

So I don’t fight their hands, I let them do what they need to do. Making sure I’m not armed before my own are bound behind my back with strips of cloth and tight knots. I wait and let my weight be shifted as they lift me again to my knees, I don’t bother struggling against them as they stand tall above me in a move of power and intimidation.

The sun is setting and the highest-ranking soldier confronts me, “What would your commanding officer think of your surrender?” 

I understand the confusion, why would I bend over and give up while I just watch my fellows fight to their deaths, all of them believe there are some pride and honor in that. But I don’t want to die out here, I don’t see any honor in that. 

“I am the commanding officer, and all of my men are dead,” I speak, swallowing the lump in my throat to sound confident and sure of myself, the voice that got me promoted to this rank before even reaching the age of 20. The other soldier stares at me, I can see the confusion in his brow as he considers my answer which didn’t actually answer his question at all.

“Take him somewhere secure, and tie him up! I don't want him going anywhere or talking to anyone. Let's see if a day without food or water fixes his smart mouth."

And so my journey truly begins.


End file.
